Maybe Until The End
by nitilia
Summary: Their friendship had always been difficult to understand. AU.


**I don't know. Really. I can't write anything else, and so I thought 'tea shop', and then wrote something entirely unrelated to tea shops.**

**It's not chronological, nor is it coherent. It might be confusing.**

* * *

1.

He didn't drink tea. Neither did Kirihara. He wasn't quite sure how they'd managed to meet at a tea shop.

"I was bored," Kirihara defended, staring at his cup of tea. "What's your excuse?"

Ryoma shrugged, pushing his own aside. "Looking for someone."

"At a tea shop?" He looked disbelieving.

Ryoma nodded. "He's almost always here."

"Who?"

"Fuji-senpai."

"Fuji-senpai." Kirihara's eyes narrowed. He didn't seem angry, yet, but he was close. On the verge of it. "What do you want with him?"

Ryoma shrugged again. "I just...wanted to see him."

The next moment, Kirihara's tea cup came flying for his face. His reflexes were quick, and he dodged just in time, but the cup crashed into the back of his seat and splattered tea all over him in the process.

He didn't even like tea.

He watched his friend stand up, seething, and stalk out of the room. The waitresses seemed too scared to ask him to pay for the damage.

He realized he hadn't reacted yet. He was drenched in the liquid and was covered with tea shards, but he hadn't tried to get the last word in. He closed his eyes to calm himself, placed both hands on the table and slowly stood up.

Then he snatched up his own tea cup, ran out of the shop and flung it at the retreating Kirihara's head. It hit the mark, and he allowed himself a mere moment of satisfaction to watch Kirihara turn and his eyes turn darker, before he turned and ran for his life.

* * *

2.

He stood in the middle of a rainstorm.

His arms were outstretched as he stared up at the sky, thunder rolling, lightning flashing, and he couldn't help but grin.

He was standing in a rainstorm.

He wasn't allowed to stand in rainstorms.

He raised his hands higher and laughed. He could barely hear himself over the wind, and that felt good. The wind blew harder, and he stumbled a bit trying to keep his balance, but he stood his ground.

_I'm invincible, _he thought, almost hysterically. _I'm invincible._

The door to the roof opened, and a dark figure approached him, shielding his eyes with his hand. It was Kirihara.

He seemed irritated, and he mouthed something angrily, but Ryoma couldn't hear him. He shrugged and smiled, and his friend sighed in exasperation, before wrapping his arms around himself and coming closer to stand next to him.

"You're an idiot," Kirihara told him, his voice barely audible over the storm. "You're going to get yourself killed."

He didn't see a problem with that. "I'm invincible," he informed the older boy wisely.

Kirihara sighed again. "I'm sure you are." But he smiled a bit despite himself, and Ryoma grinned wider.

"You should try it," he told Kirihara. "Spread your arms out and listen to the thunder."

Kirihara seemed skeptical, but decided to humor him. He slowly raised his arms up. The wind blew, lightning struck. The sky flashed and darkened in matters of seconds. And the thunder crashed in the background, making them shiver in excitement.

Kirihara lowered his arms slowly. "I'm invincible," he said at last, eyes wide, almost disbelieving. Like it might be true after all.

* * *

3.

Ryoma was trying to do his homework. He sat diligently at his table, pencil in hand, glaring at his textbook to scare it into completing his work on its own.

Behind him, Kirihara lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling and singing.

Singing.

Singing nursery rhymes, no less. And he seemed perfectly happy doing so.

"Are you drunk?" Ryoma asked, out of honest curiosity. Kirihara shook his head no, not pausing his melodies for a moment. "Are you sure?" he repeated, because he wasn't so sure. Maybe someone had slipped it into his water when he wasn't looking. Or injected it into his bloodstream. Or had given him one of those weird candy bar like things that secretly concealed illegal stuff. Kirihara still shook his head.

"I'm too young to drink," Kirihara confessed later, in the middle of _Mary had a little lamb. _Like that could have stopped him.

"I didn't know," Ryoma muttered, concentrating on his work.

"You are too, aren't you?"

Now he was sure he was drunk. "Maybe."

When he started _Yankee Doodle, _Ryoma had had enough.

"You either shut up, or I'll kick you out myself."

Kirihara didn't stop.

"I'm serious."

"But they're the _classics!"_

"They're freaking nursery rhymes, and I'm trying to do Calculus. Shut up, or get out."

"My mother used to sing these to me," he continued, gaze still on the ceiling. From nursery rhymes to his dead mother. Ryoma would never understand how to treat him.

"Um...?"

"She was a horrible singer," he deadpanned. "I think I only ever fell asleep because I didn't want to hear her anymore."

There was a pause, before Kirihara burst into peals of laughter.

Ryoma sighed.

* * *

4.

"You know, I paid for the cups the two of you broke that day," Fuji said conversationally as he sipped his tea.

Ryoma glanced towards the window nervously, half expecting Kirihara to spring up any moment. "Oh. You were there?"

"Of course. It was quite entertaining."

Ryoma scowled. "But I was looking for you," he said accusingly. "I didn't see you."

Fuji nodded. "I was outside. I entered right after you threw things at each other and fled. You're lucky they've let you in today, actually."

Ryoma paused. "I hadn't thought of that." He'd sort of forgotten that he'd caused so much chaos the last time around. Now that he thought of it, the management _was _eyeing him strangely...

Fuji shook his head. "You're impossible."

* * *

5.

The funeral had been an awkward affair.

Kirihara didn't cry. Not once. And Ryoma hadn't seen him cry since. It had rained that day, the way it always did at funerals, and the two of them had stood side by side as they lowered the coffin into her grave.

Kirihara's mother had loved Ryoma more than his own mother ever would. He didn't cry either.

The proceedings came to an end at last, and people began to take their leave. They hugged Kirihara on their way. Some cried on his shoulder. They told him that he had to support his father and make his mother proud. Life would go on, they said, and they would be here for him, and _all he had to do was stay strong_.

Ryoma wonders sometimes what would've happened if he'd told him to break down.

They stood there for hours after everyone had left. Kirihara's father was inside, sobbing and drinking and doing God knows what. Kirihara himself stood perfectly still staring at the spot where his mother was buried, his eyes accusing and disbelieving at the same time.

The rain continued to pour.

Well after the sky had darkened, Kirihara reached for his arm. He held his wrist tightly for a moment, as if to make sure he was really there.

"You won't leave me, will you?" he asked, his voice a tad desperate.

Ryoma shook his head numbly.

"Do you promise?" He turned to Ryoma fully and grabbed him by the shoulders, searching his eyes for any evidence that he might be lying. "Can you promise? Can you promise that you won't leave me?"

Ryoma bit his lip and nodded again. "I won't leave," he said, voice hollow.

The relief his words brought was temporary. Kirihara held him like he'd disappear any moment.

* * *

6.

"I don't quite see the point of carrots," Kirihara told him one day, as he stared at the carrots Ryoma had peeled.

"I don't see the point of you," Ryoma responded. "But you still exist, so."

Kirihara scowled. "I'm more useful than carrots."

"Yeah?" He rolled his sleeves up and proceeded to chop up the peeled vegetables. "At least they taste good."

"But they're _orange,_" Kirihara argued. "What type of vegetables are orange and yet start with the letter C?"

He didn't quite understand the logic behind that.

"They're pointless," he insisted, seeing Ryoma's lack of response.

"Okay, so you've been outdone by a vegetable. Get over yourself."

He put the carrots into a pan and cooked them to the best of his ability. It was barely edible, but it would do.

He doubted Kirihara could taste anything, anyway.

* * *

7.

Kirihara seemed to enjoy hanging around in his room when he was doing homework.

On this day, thankfully, he wasn't singing. He was still sprawled over the bed, staring at the ceiling, but he was perfectly silent. Karupin, the traitor she was, had curled up under his arm and fallen asleep.

"You're my best friend," he declared somewhat randomly.

Ryoma paused. "What...exactly am I supposed to say to that?"

It wasn't that he didn't feel the same. He just had the sense to not say it out loud.

Kirihara shrugged. "I was just informing you. In case it took you by surprise some day."

"Right. Thank you for your consideration."

"Don't mention it."

There was silence again, this time more uncomfortable.

"Is Fuji your best friend?" Kirihara asked a minute later, out of the blue.

"Say what?"

"Is Fuji your best friend."

"Of course not. He's freaking Fuji."

"But you always go to see him."

Ryoma sighed. "Idiot, just because you're my best friend it doesn't mean you're my _only _friend. Then it's not even a valid compliment."

Kirihara was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed softly. He seemed to think about something and laughed even harder.

"What the heck is your problem?" Ryoma demanded.

Kirihara grinned at him. "You admitted it! I never thought I'd get you to, but you admitted I was your best friend!"

* * *

8.

"I'm going to kill you," Ryoma said. It was a simple fact. A fact borne of pure hatred.

Kirihara smirked. "But you promised you'd never leave me," he drawled, almost mockingly.

It made him want to kill him all the more.

* * *

9.

"You're Echizen Ryoma, aren't you?"

Ryoma looked up at the other boy. He was towering over his desk, with wild dark hair and curious eyes. He was in...fifth grade, maybe? A year older than him. He didn't think he'd seen him before.

He nodded, assuming that was the end of the conversation.

"I'm Kirihara Akaya," the boy announced, staring at him.

He seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction. "Um, okay," Ryoma said.

The boy's expression wavered for a moment. "You haven't heard of me?"

Ryoma snorted. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but no."

Kirihara frowned in disappointment, and then caught himself and scowled. "Whatever. You're supposed to come with me."

"...why?"

"Fuji-senpai wans to see you."

"And he is who?"

Kirihara brightened considerably. "You don't know him, either?"

Well, someone had an inferiority complex. He shook his head no.

"Student Council Vice President," Kirihara said happily. "Everyone knows him. Except you, but you didn't even know me, so it figures."

"...Why do I have to meet him?"

Kirihara shrugged. "Something about wanting you to join a club."

"Oh."

"Actually, he wants you to join my club."

"...oh."

"Because he heard you were talented." Kirihara's eyes sparkled, but for what reason, Ryoma wasn't sure. "The Kozushima Volleyball team. Want to join?"

* * *

10.

He ran like his life depended on it.

Now that he thought about it, it did.

Kirihara was close, he could hear him behind him. And he was alone. There was no way he could stand against him.

The older boy was taller, and caught up easier than Ryoma expected him to. He was thrown to the ground almost immediately, and Kirihara grabbed him by the neck, squeezing hard enough to suffocate him.

His vision was fading. There were lights in his eyes.

"I don't know why I put up with you," Kirihara ground out. The words hurt, but not any more than his imminent death. "I don't know why I ever did."

Kirihara never spared time for theatrics. It had been mere moments since he'd caught up with Ryoma, and already everything had turned to black.

* * *

11.

And yet, he had still dared to throw his tea cup in his face. But he didn't catch up with him that time.

* * *

12.

"You're the only person who still treats him like you did before," Fuji told him once. _Before what _went unsaid, just like it always was. As if speaking of death was something forbidden. "Sometimes that calms him, but sometimes he can't stand it."

"He still says I'm his best friend," he said, voice hollow.

Fuji smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And he means that. Really. But you know what his temper is like. He loses himself sometimes, but he still cares for you underneath it all."

* * *

13.

"I'm sorry."

The voice came from behind him. Ryoma almost fell over. "Say what?"

Kirihara wouldn't face him. "I said I was sorry. I...shouldn't have strangled you."

"Obviously." He turned to leave, but Kirihara stopped him.

"I didn't mean what I said that day," he said slowly, searching his eyes for something that Ryoma didn't know. "When I said I didn't want to put up with you. I didn't mean that."

He could feel the bile rising to his throat. "Good to know," he forced out. "Now, if you'd excuse me - "

"You don't understand, do you?"

"For heaven's sake, Kirihara, _I don't care! _I'm sick of this, I'm sick of everything, and maybe you don't hate me, but _I don't care!"_

He looked like he'd been slapped in the face. He looked like what he'd been on the day of the funeral, which wasn't fair, because Ryoma hadn't even said anything offensive.

He was reminded of the boy's mother. Her laugh. Her smile. Her cookies. Her hugs. His own mother would never hug him.

He sat down on the ground let his face fall into his hands, sighing deeply.

After a moment of consideration, Kirihara sat next to him.

* * *

14.

"What's your obsession with the rain, anyway?" Kirihara asked grumpily, his voice barely heard over the storm. He was drenched from head to toe, and that was not improving his mood.

Ryoma grinned at him, but didn't take his eyes off the sky. "I'm going to be like this one day," he said. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled in the distance. It sent shivers down his spine.

Kirihara frowned. "You're going to cause widespread chaos and try to destroy everything around you?"

Ryoma shook his head. "I'm going to survive," he said over the wind, more to the sky than to Kirihara. "And no one's going to stop me."

"No one's going to try."

"They will," Ryoma said, almost cheerfully. "But they'll fail, because I'm invincible."

Kirihara shook his head in mock dismay. "You're impossible."

His smile widened. "No thanks to you."

_I could jump, _he thought momentarily, in the excitement of the moment. _I could jump off this roof right now and be part of whatever world I want._

He spared a moment to look at the boy next to him.

He could jump. But he wouldn't.

* * *

15.

"If you sing one more nursery rhyme, I swear I will kill you."

"But I'm too young to die."

"Yeah, we'll see how that works once I've stabbed you."

"Not I'm too young to physically lose my life, I'm too young to be considered a possible victim!"

"I DON'T CARE. SHUT UP."

"But Mary lost her lamb and -"

"SHUT UP."

"Hey, you can't - "

"I HAVE CALCULUS."

* * *

16.

There wasn't a point to them. They were pathetic and disillusioned, and equally so. He didn't even know if they did each other any good.

But it was all he had, and for that, it was maybe worth it.

* * *

**Please review.**


End file.
